


The Goldfish Corset

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Mycroft, Corsetry, Fireplaces, Inspired by Art, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Screwing in the Study, Top Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 04:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1141636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Greg waited for Mycroft in the study, the last thing he expected was the corset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Goldfish Corset

Greg was tired and a little irritated that Mycroft was having him over tonight. It had been a long week. But he never could deny the elder Holmes much of anything, so here he was, getting dropped off in front of the understated home. He was shown into the study and found himself alone. Wondering what Mycroft was up to, he poured himself a glass of the fine wine that had been left by the fireplace and settled in to wait.

At least the wine was tasty. He stared between the doors of the study, wondering when exactly Mycroft would deign to make an appearance. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and sunk back in the leather chair, inhaling the scent of the wine and leather and musty old books. It was very much a Mycroft smell. Whenever the damnable man would show up.

He was staring into the fire when he heard Mycroft’s voice off to the side. “Gregory.”

Turning his head, he nearly dropped his wine. In the dim light of the study Mycroft stood with his back to him, sheet draped low around his waist. But it wasn’t the sheet that got his attention, it was the aqua corset cinched tight around his middle, lending a curve to his waist and drawing Greg’s eye down the straight line of his spine to his arse, freckles just visible on the pale skin. He looked like a perfect statue.

“Oh Mycroft,” breathed Greg, putting down his glass and standing, warm now from more than the fireplace. He crossed to his lover, seeing as he got closer that the corset was hand painted with goldfish. “Beautiful,” he breathed touching the cool skin of Mycroft’s shoulder.

He shivered slightly, watching him over his shoulder. “I am glad you approve. I wore this all day, thinking of this moment.”

The thought of Mycroft Holmes wearing a corset under his suit while thinking of him made the blood rush south faster than the gorgeous image before him. Greg kissed the joint of shoulder and neck, running his hands down his side. The cool softness of Mycroft’s skin, the equally cool satin and lace. He kissed along the line of his shoulder before turning him to admire the view from the front.

“You are so beautiful,” he repeated, drawing him towards the fire. He sat and drew Mycroft into his lap, watching the way the corset forced him to sit straight and accented his body. His cock was half-hard and stirring just beneath the corset. Greg’s hand rested on his thigh  as he kissed his chest  though the tight material.

“May I remove this?” he asked, looking at the hooks in the front.

“You may, just go slowly.”

One of Greg’s favorite things was undressing Mycroft, to find the man and the pale skin under the armor of suit and authority. Mycroft watched him as he carefully unhooked the corset, starting from the top, moving slowly to give him time to get used to the freedom. The corset had left marks and as Greg leaned in to kiss one, Mycroft shivered and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Wearing one all day makes my skin more sensitive,” he admitted.

“I have to say, this was not what I was expecting this evening. But I suppose I should know by now that I will enjoy your surprises,” said Greg as Mycroft smiled at him. Greg got the last hook loose and carefully set the corset to the side, taking in the marks on his front before turning him to admire the back. The laces had left a trail up the middle of his spine. Greg leaned forward to carefully run his tongue along the line marking the top of the corset.

“Gregory,” moaned Mycroft.

Shifting him in his lap, cock already straining against his trousers, Greg brought his back closer to his face and started slowly tracing the lines with his tongue. Mycroft moaned and squeezed his thighs as he tried to pull away. Greg wrapped his arms around his waist to hold him in place, tenderly tracing the lines with the tip of his tongue as Mycroft moaned and rocked against him, panting loud over the sound of the fireplace.

The normal clean taste of Mycroft’s skin was tinted now with satin and sweat. Greg’s tongue ran along the ridges of his spine as his lover started to shake. He moved one hand to blindly palm Mycroft’s cock, precum slick and dripping in his palm. “I bet I could get you off with just my tongue.”

Mycroft shook his head, unable to speak.

“Next time, then.” Greg carefully picked him up and lay him on his stomach in front of the fire before retrieving a pillow and tucking it under his hips. He took a moment to admire the man in the firelight, lines still standing out on his damp skin. His head lay pillowed on his hands, long legs parted slightly. Greg quickly undressed, giving his cock a stroke as he realized Mycroft had opened his eyes to watch him.

Greg carefully parted his legs and knelt between his thighs, watching the way muscles moved under the constellation of freckles. He leaned forward and kissed the back of his neck before slowly licking his way down Mycroft’s spine, listening to the needy, panting moans and feeling him shift underneath him. He took extra time to mouth the marks from the laces before moving even further down, tongue dipping between his arse cheeks.

“Yes,” moaned Mycroft, shifting his legs up to give Greg better access. Greg’s tongue circled his entrance, laving it thoroughly before pressing the tip of his tongue past the tight muscle. Mycroft gave a wordless cry and Greg looked up his body to see he was fisting his own hair with one hand, the other hand stuffed into his mouth to muffle his cry.

He reached up and pulled his hand free of his mouth. “I want to hear you,” he said softly, weaving his fingers through Mycroft’s as he turned his attention back to his arse. Mycroft squeezed his hand and groaned, writhing against the pillow as he opened him with his tongue.

Finally he pulled back and fished the lube from his trouser pocket. He pressed two fingers inside, watching his lover’s face, Mycroft’s eyes tightly screwed shut. “Hey,” he said, tapping his chin.

Mycroft opened his eyes, nearly black with lust. The flicker of fire reflected in the pupil as he slowly rocked on Greg’s fingers. “Oh my God,” groaned Greg, leaning down to bite at his shoulder. “Do you have any idea how amazing you look right now?”

Smiling a bit, Mycroft pushed back harder on his fingers. “Fuck me, Gregory.”

Greg never could resist Mycroft cursing. He slicked himself quickly and pressed the blunt head of his cock against him. Mycroft turned to bury his face in his hands. “Please,” he begged brokenly, muffled.

He planted his hands on either side of Mycroft’s torso and shoved forward, nearly pushing him off the pillow. He set a rough pace, knowing Mycroft would have rug burns on his knees and arms. He leaned down to bite his shoulder again, worrying the flesh in his teeth and leaving a stinging mark. His and his alone.

Mycroft cried out, body shaking as Greg lifted his head. He could feel the man clenching around him as he came. Greg licked the shell of his ear, fucking him harder as he rode him through it, his lover helpless underneath him. “You are so goddamn hot,” growled Greg, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming home. Mycroft whimpered.

Greg could feel how close he was. He gave another hard thrust and this time Mycroft squeezed as his hips slammed against him. Greg shouted as he came, Mycroft tight and hot around him, squeezing the come from his cock.

“God,” moaned Greg as he collapsed onto his back. Mycroft flinched and Greg picked himself back up just enough to carefully pull out. He rolled onto his back and pulled his lover against his chest, kissing the top of his head. Mycroft hummed happily and curled around him, leg and arm thrown across his body.

Greg listened to Mycroft’s slowing heartbeat. The corset lay against the chair. He’d have to catch the man wearing it again soon. He closed his eyes, and held him, content.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this flyingrotten art](http://merindab.tumblr.com/post/155698760934/spacecatandthekittens-flyingrotten-i-was).
> 
> Much thanks to letalkingmime and shellybees for watching me write and giving it a beta.
> 
> And also to [Mazarin221b and her fic Straightlaced](895790/chapters/1729931) for helping me figure out how to write corset kink. And christyimnotred for suggesting it.
> 
> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


End file.
